Of Old Pain and New Songs
by T3h Toby-Chan
Summary: When the rest of the world shut out the rain, she danced in it. Heidelrich x Noa drabbles. Contain MOVIE SPOILERS!
1. Taboo

It was forbidden, that which drew them together, to eachothers' arms and hearts for basic comfort in stolen moments of solitude and late nights. For Alfons, it was the stigma he had always been told of but had never accepted as true; that image of an unclean people, of low level humans that she came from, those called 'Zigeuners' with a distasteful utterance. For Noa, there were barriers of pride and fear to be broken; there were the Romani laws of purity, of strict chastity, that were meant to be upheld at all times. They should have had no business talking to each other, let alone befriending, comforting, loving each other.

And yet, between a dying youth and an outcast among outcasts, there was no time or merit left to be given in honoring pointless taboos. Only their momentary wholeness, their completion, their new, secret world that no one else could touch had honor of its own.


	2. Dancing in the Rain

When all the other people in the town frowned beneath their umbrellas and hurried home to shut out the rain, Noa danced in it. She found her own small place in the eerily uninhabited street and swept across the cobblestones with grace, for once alone in the open and completely unashamed. The drops on rooftops and gentle moaning chorus of wind was a beautiful melody of nature; the raindrops that fell upon each and every rooftop without care for discerning who they fell upon were an illustration of perfection.

And he watched her, his breath clouding against the second story window, and smirked at the thought of the other townspeople, boarded up in their houses, frowning at the shamelessness of the wild 'Gitano' girl, but not having the boldness to venture into the rain to make their petty disapproval known. He let her dance, in awe of the beauty of her movement, and finally made his way to the front step of the inn, the echo of the door's latch slicing through the orchestra of raindrops. She froze, arms raised above her head, eyes half closed, chest heaving, pulled from a rare moment of bliss to see his figure in the dimly lit doorframe, a puff of steam rising from his breath into the chilled air. She lowered her arms and smiled slowly, unconcerned with the immodest way her clothes were plastered against her goosebumped flesh. It was only Alfons; there was no need for hiding.

They stared at one another in comfortable silence for what may have been minutes before he grew a wan smile and gestured for her return.

"You had better come inside," He said, "You'll catch your death of cold."


	3. Taming

She knew all too well his habitual fixation on politeness; saw straight through his excuses and offered apologetic smiles; saw his apprehension and nervousness at physical contact; knew the armor plating of distance he had built about himself, even when he craved intimacy in spite of his fear. And even while a situation so deep might have called for some profound spiritual remedy, she found that food was far more effective. After having taken up his former position as the house cook, leaving him little to do in those times but to review blueprints and read the newspaper, stirring up small bits of impersonal conversation, she determined that she could coax him out of his shield, even if slightly.

The first day, it was a dumpling, rather hot, surely undercooked, which he happily chewed without mentioning its faults. On the second day, it was just a bit of Spaatzel she insisted he should test, but only right beside the stove, lest she drop it on the floor. On the fifth day, he allowed her to rest her hand on his shoulder while she awaited the verdict of his taste testing opinion. By the end of the first week, he told the blunt truths, good and bad, and she was secretly proud of her progress.

By the end of two weeks, he grew bolder of his own accord, and he ventured to lean against her back, hold her free hand comfortably, and comfortably nuzzle his chin upon the slope of her shoulder. She forgot about stirring and simply sighed, warming into his embrace.

"Did you want to try-"

"No," He cut her off, "I'm not very hungry."

And in accordance with some unwritten law of the universe, Edward chose this moment to stumble in the door, his arms overflowing with research papers, loudly declaring "Sorry I'm late!", and suddenly looking up to catch the scene. With a brief stutter, a supressed grin, and a flash of red across his cheeks, he gathered his things quickly.

"Well then," He said, pushing back amused laughter as he sidled towards the stairway, "I'll just be upstairs then. Don't mind me!"

His smug giggle as he bounded up the stairs implied that perhaps Noa hadn't been the only one to see this coming.


End file.
